Perspectologist

There was a time in my tumultuous, angst ridden youth that I wrote poetry. It wasn’t good poetry. While I had the emotional drive to express myself, I lacked the desire to learn the finer technical points of poetry. This was an era before spell check was ubiquitous, and MS Word felt slow on my system at the time. Most of my poetry was written in Notepad with horrible misspellings due to the fact that my vocabulary vastly exceeded my ability to spell.

I had a tendency to write rhyming couplets. Some were decent, but I had a lot of trouble growing them into proper poems. I was not a good poet. However, my writing helped me to channel and deal with my emotions in a constructive way during a very destructive time in my life. I am thankful for that.

I don’t believe that I was a uniformly crappy writer. Some of my best writing from the era of these poems may have been in letters I wrote to friends. I was a passionate letter writer.

Josh and Enrico’s frequent mention of poetry has inspired me to share some from my past. Looking back I found two poems that don’t totally make me want to vomit. Yes, they are a bit angsty. I shall leave them to face the world, and stand on their own below.

“Afflictive Moment”

Punch a wall, break it all.
Tear it down, turn it round.
Bleed the wound.
Poison spills from the broken flesh.
Slowly the anger drains from the body.
Empty, but for the sorrow and sadness.
Then the tears wash it away.
When it’s gone there is nothing left.
Nothing to hold onto.
Nothing but the need to exist.

“You Lie”

You lie.
You lie in my bed.
You lie to my face, and confuse my head.
You delude my heart,
so I can’t pull reality and illusion apart.
How dare you hide what I have to see!
I can’t be. Unless I can be free of my confusion.
You promise heaven but lead me to hell.
I take my stands alone. You hide and watch,
as they tear off my flesh, and rip me to the bone.
I stand alone.
Along will come the day when you turn and just walk away.
Actions speak louder then words. I am tired of the empty whispers.